


You're The Gravity

by faedreamer



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Age Difference, Amnesia, Broken Harry, Canon Compliant, Character Death Fix, Explicit Sex, Fix-It, Harry Hart Lives, Harry Survived, Hartwin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Smitten!Eggsy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Will eventually be Explicit, because of course amnesia, but not for a bit, except that shitty final scene, gonna be a long one, romantic, sad so much sad, seriously possessive behavior, super spy boyfriends, tw - panic attacks, ultimately resolved sexual tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faedreamer/pseuds/faedreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After V-Day, Eggsy realizes that Kingsman has no intentions of retrieving Harry’s body - no trails back to the organization, they say. Collateral damage, they say. To that, Eggsy says ‘Fuck You.’</p><p>Not content to let Harry’s fate be that of a John Doe in some unmarked Kentucky grave, Eggsy is determined to reclaim him. One way or another, Harry Hart is coming home.</p><p>Thing is...it’s not a body he finds, it’s a man with no memory of who he is, how he ended up in a rural Kentucky psych ward, and no idea why this beautiful, green-eyed boy who just broke into his hospital room keeps insisting that they are elite secret agent spies and, by the way, head over heels in love.</p><p>The spy part is easier to believe, to be quite honest.</p><p>ATTN: This fic is currently on hold and may or may not be picked up at a later date. I apologize to all of you waiting on updates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came about when I, upon my dozenth or so rewatch of the movie, realized that Valentine still had Lancelot's body - he had it, stitched it back up and was peddling the picture all over the world trying to find out who he was. And that's about the moment I realized that Kingsman doesn't retrieve the bodies of their fallen agents. And THAT did not sit well with me or my Eggsy muse. So this happened. Because eff that, no you _will_ not leave Harry in Kentucky.
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> This fic now has a playlist to go with it, if you're curious where the title comes from: [You're The Gravity Playlist on 8tracks](https://8tracks.com/faesutherland/you-re-the-gravity) These are all the songs I listen to that have inspired this fic. Enjoy!

It’s a week after V-Day that Eggsy starts asking questions. _When is the funeral? Can I choose what Harry wears? I miss him, Merlin, can I say goodbye?_

And that’s when he finds out that, no, he can’t. Because there is no funeral. There is no last outfit. Because there _is_ no body.

“Are you takin’ the piss? What th’ fuck ya mean there ain’t no body?? Fuckin’ Valentine left him right there, layin’...layin’ there.”

Merlin is giving him that sad, quiet look, the one that suggests this hurts him as much as it does Eggsy. “I’m sorry, son. Kingsman protocol insists that there be no trails back to the organization. When an agent is… _decommissioned_ , especially in the field, in the line of duty, it is safer for everyone involved, ourselves and civilians, if all ties are severed. You were too young to remember when your da died, but there was no funeral for Lee, either. I’m sorry, Eggsy.”

He’s stunned. He’s not sure why, because if he’d ever thought about it he probably could have put two and two together. He’d known about Valentine having Lancelot’s body stitched back together to try and find Kingsman, but it’d never occurred to him that no one _ever_ claimed the bodies of Kingsman agents. They just...left them behind. Like so much collateral damage. Suddenly the newspaper clippings and Harry’s _‘The point is, Eggsy, that no one thanked me for any of it.’_ makes so much more sense. White-hot anger surges up in him and he shoves to his feet.

“That’s bollocks, Merlin! ‘Arry ain’t fuckin’ collateral damage! He’s...he was my…”

Merlin nods. “I know, lad. I loved him, too.”

“Then how can you just leave him there?? In _Kentucky_ of all places? Some John Doe victim of that horrible massacre?” Christ, the police probably wrote him off as a member of that church, which somehow makes it even more nauseating. Those people were trash, human garbage, while Harry was...Harry was everything.

“Because it’s what Harry would want, Eggsy. He knew the rules, he knew what would happen. He left behind the bodies of more than one colleague, do you think that was easy for him, either? But he wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself or this organization, believe me.” Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know it hurts, son. Try to remember him as he was. You made him proud, keep doing that. It helps. I know, because it helps me, too.”

But it doesn’t help, though. Eggsy tries, he really he does. He goes home to Harry’s house, looks around at everything that is the man he loves filling the place - tries to remember him, like Merlin said. But it doesn’t help.

“Rox...you gotta help me. I know you and Merlin...well, I know how ya feel ‘bout him, but he’s wrong. This is wrong, Rox, I can’t leave Harry there.” He’s curled up in Harry’s bed, wrapped in the red robe that still smells like him - eucalyptus from his aftershave and a hint of fruit from the shampoo he liked best. Eggsy misses him so much he can hardly breathe. “Please, Rox.”

There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end of the phone, then a soft sigh. “Of course, Eggsy. What do you want to do?”

His breath catches, sitting up. “I just need to know what...where they…” He can’t bring himself to say it, eyes squeezing shut.

“Where he is?”

He nods. “Yeah. Where he is. I’m gonna go get him. I don’t care...if Merlin kicks me out of Kingsman, then fine, but I can’t...I gotta bring him home.” Why can’t he bring himself to say it? Bring his _body_ home, Harry’s _body_. Because he is gone. He isn’t there anymore. He is dead. Dead. Dead.

No matter how many times he says it, it doesn’t make it feel any more real. Eggsy is starting to wonder if he’ll ever wake up, because it still feels like a bad dream.

“Okay. I can find out. It’s some nowhere little town in Kentucky, how hard can their security measures be to get through? I’ll find out and send you the info, you just...get some sleep, Eggsy. Then you can go, and I’ll go with you.”

He shakes his head immediately. “Oh no, no Rox. You can’t come. Helping me is bad enough, I...besides, this is my job. My responsibility. He’s my…” He doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence, is the fucked up part. They hadn’t really gotten a chance to figure out labels. Harry was what to him, exactly? Eggsy doesn’t know. He supposes Harry isn’t anything anymore, but that feels disloyal to even think. Harry was just...everything, in the end.

“Alright. I know, baby. Get some rest, I’ll have the information for you in the morning. Are you okay?”

She means is it okay to hang up, is he going to spend the entire night crying, wandering this house like a ghost or, worse, try to be with Harry, like he’d told Arthur he’d rather be. He knows Rox worries about that ever since V-Day.

“I’m okay.” Which isn’t exactly true, but true enough in the context of her concerns. Harry would be so mad at him if he did anything like hurting himself. Eggsy might be in the worst pain he’s ever felt, but he isn’t stupid and he’s pretty sure he’ll be in for a very non-peaceful afterlife if he tries to rush getting there because of Harry. “I promise, I’ll try to sleep.”

And he keeps his promise, he does try - it’s just hard to accomplish when all he can see every time he closes his eyes is Valentine’s face and a bullet coming for him like an unstoppable force, over and over and over. And then nothing but an almost mockingly blue sky above him, a tree waving in the breeze and utter silence.

So when there’s a knock on the door a few hours later, close to dawn, Eggsy is still awake and drags himself downstairs. What he’s not prepared for is Merlin standing in the doorway, Rox just behind him looking apologetic and also more than a little nauseous.

“Fucking hell, Rox,” Eggsy groans.

Merlin gives him a sharp look. “Save your blaming, Eggsy. Roxanne did what she had to. And you, my boy, would do better to listen right now than speak. May we come in?”

It’s a completely rhetorical question, because Eggsy knows they’re coming in regardless of his answer, so he rubs at his gritty eyes and steps back, waving them inside with a sarcastic arm gesture. It’s into the sitting room, and Eggsy tucks the robe tighter around himself and folds his legs under him as he sits down in Harry’s favorite chair.

“So...lecture, then?” he asks, sighing. “I’m too tired for this, Merlin, and it isn’t going to change anything. I’m going to America.”

But where he expects an argument, instead Merlin pins him with those piercing hazel-green eyes behind his personal brand of Kingsman glasses...and nods. “Yes, you are.”

His brows snap together, confusion flooding him. “Wait...what?”

The look Merlin and Roxy exchange sets Eggsy’s nerves right on edge - more so than they already are, and suddenly he’s a knot of confusion and wariness. What’s going on? Merlin doesn’t just change his mind on the rules for nothing. Not even for Roxy would he do that.

“Fuck’s sake, _what?_ ” he demands when they seem at a loss for how to say whatever they’re about to say.

Finally, Rox meets his eyes. “Eggsy...Harry’s alive.”

There’s just silence. Eggsy knows she said it, he heard it, but it’s so out of the realm of anything his brain expected that, for a long handful of heartbeats, he doesn’t react. Just stares. Silent. Roxy glances at Merlin, who frowns and leans forward on the couch.

“Eggsy? Did you hear Roxy? Harry’s alive.”

Eggsy’s gaze flicks to him, a low roaring starting in his ears as he tries to understand what the fuck they’re talking about. “I don’t...no he’s not.” And then, slow at first then in a rush all at once, his heart explodes in his chest and he sits straight up. “Wait a...no, he’s not. He’s not. I saw...I watched him d - ” He cuts off. “What the fuck?”

Merlin slides a folder across the coffee table toward him. “He is alive. Injured, but stable. He’s in a hospital in Kentucky, under surveillance, but for the most part, whole and sound.”

Eggsy’s hands are like leaves in a hurricane, shaking so hard he can hardly get hold of the folder and flip it open. There’s a grainy image from some kind of cc-tv footage, of Harry in a hospital bed, head bandaged and either unconscious or asleep - but very much alive.

He pushes to unsteady feet and turns to leave the room, yanking the front door open and stumbling out into the fresh, early-morning air. He sucks in huge lungfuls, bent at the waist as his head spins, entire body feeling like it might just shut down with the enormity of what he’s just seen. _Oh god, oh god...he’s alive._

Rox is there in a second, hand on his back, urging him to breathe, that it’s okay, please Eggsy just breathe. He’s trying, but it’s like his body won’t obey him as his chest tightens and the world goes topsy-turvy. next thing he knows, he’s on his ass on the asphalt, Roxy crouched beside him coaching him to breathe.

Long minutes pass before he’s able to gather himself, leaning heavily back on one hand, the other over his mouth. “I’m oka...Rox, I’m okay.”

He pushes unsteadily to his feet, then leans heavily back against the doorframe, staring up at the lightening sky. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and neither does she, as he tries to gather himself. Finally, he meets her worried eyes. “When do I leave?”

Merlin’s voice comes from behind him, the other man stepping outside end holding out both the folder he’d dropped and an envelope. “One hour. I suggest you pack and get to the airport. I can brief you on the flight with all the details.”

Eggsy takes the envelope and folder, staring down at it, then nods. He looks up at Merlin. There’s one thing he has to know. “Did you know?”

There’s no defensiveness in the other man’s eyes when Merlin shakes his head. “No. It’s my fault. When it happened, before we knew Arthur had betrayed us...I trusted Arthur to verify. And then after, it should have occurred to me to double check that he’d done his job, considering everything. But I didn’t and that is my fault. I don’t know if Arthur did check and knew Harry wasn’t dead, perhaps assuming V-Day would handle the ‘problem’ or if he just didn’t bother to check because it wouldn’t matter shortly, in his opinion. Either way...it wasn’t handled and I take responsibility for that. I’m sorry, Eggsy.”

Eggsy shakes his head. He doesn’t have the energy - nor the time - for blame. Harry’s waiting for him, and damned if Eggsy is gonna make him wait one minute longer. He manages a smile in Merlin’s direction. “I’ll leave it up to Harry to decide whether you owe ‘im or not, Merlin. Imagine he’ll be the one havin’ words with ya.”

But he doesn’t laugh at the joking, because he’s too busy trying to hide the tears burning in his eyes. For the first time in what feels like eternity...Harry’s not being spoken of in past tense. Harry isn’t a ‘was’, Harry’s an ‘is’, and that’s more than he can really process at the moment. So he shoves it all down, because there’s a job to do and frankly, ain’t never gonna be a more important one.

Harry’s comin’ home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up soon! As always, you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com !


	2. Chapter 2

“Now wait just a minute...they think ‘Arry was part of Valentine’s plan?” Eggsy is pretty much mortally offended on Harry’s behalf.

Merlin sighs in his ear. “He’s the sole survivor of a massacre in their very small town, Eggsy. There’s footage from a service station across from the church showing him and Valentine talking quite calmly just before Valentine shot him. You can’t fault them for thinking it was a partnership gone wrong with Valentine turning on him once he’d offed the entire church, can you?”

Eggsy isn’t super keen on logic and ‘benefit of the doubt’ right now, though. His Harry is stuck in a Kentucky psych ward under lock and key and accused of pretty much the worst crimes against humanity since World War II...no, he’s not feeling very understanding at the moment.

“Besides,” Rox chimes in through his earpiece. “Being locked up in that psych ward is probably what saved him on V-Day, if you think about it. He was in the safest place he could be - locked inside a room away from anyone who was under the influence of that signal. If they’d just put him in the hospital...he really _would_ have died that day, Eggsy.”

Eggsy scowls. “I don’t want to feel charitable towards these wankers, lockin’ up my...my Harry, alright?”

“Alright then, let’s think about how we’re going to get you in and out with him, safely then. Yeah?”

Yes, please. “Yeah. How?”

There’s silence for a moment - he can picture Roxy and Merlin with their heads together discussing viable plans (and probably kissing, damn them) - before Roxy comes back on. “Merlin says that the FBI hasn’t made it there yet, no doubt just a bit busy with rebuilding their government as is the rest of the world, so it’ll just be local police and the psychiatric facilities security you’ll be dealing with. We’d suggest an easy cover story with you as an FBI agent sent to interview him, finally.”

“We’re confident you can figure it out from there, Eggsy,” Merlin added. “Do try not to kill anyone, there’s been enough loss of life and they are just doing their job, you know, not personally trying to keep you from Harry.”

There he goes with the logic again. Eggsy glances out the plane window at the approaching coastline of America. “Fine. I assume there’s some way for you to insert credentials for me, so I’m not using _only_ my charm and good looks in there?”

Roxy snorts softly. “Wouldn’t get you very far, cocky shit.”

He grins, the first real one of the day. “Shut up,” he jabs back. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t want a piece ‘fore you realized we both like tightly wound old men instead.”

“Careful, boy, or the only credentials I’ll send that hospital are the ones where you’re an escaped megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur and you and your buttoned up ‘old man’ can spend your happily ever after in Nowhere, Kentucky.”

Eggsy laughs - this one the first in the almost two weeks since V-Day. “Thanks, you know? If I ain’t said it already.”

Merlin’s voice is somber, no longer filled with acidic humor. “Like I told you before, Eggsy...I love him, too. And so does Rox. Bring him home.”

He plans to do exactly that, no matter what.

~ ~ ~ ~

It turns out that getting in isn’t the issue. The staff is stretched thin and look exhausted and easily buy his cover story as the poor sucker who drew the short stick and had to drag himself from DC to this little bollocks town to look into ‘what’s probably a false lead anyway.’ He’s ushered one floor up and a couple twisty corridors across to the ‘secure wing’. Turns out Roxy is right, Harry’s been isolated well away from the general populated area and it takes a thumbprint scan of a nurse to open the door to his room - these bastards probably saved Harry’s life when it all went down, without even knowing it.

So he’s feeling a bit more charitable, with that knowledge, and cracks a smile for the tired looking nurse who makes him promise to not unstrap the patient and to buzz for her when he wants to leave. And then she’s gone and Eggsy is staring at a partially-open door behind which is the man he thought he’d never see again.

He doesn’t move for a second, the faint squeak of the nurse’s shoes echoing as she disappears back down to the nurse’s station for this wing - around the corner and out of sight. Perfect. Eggsy forces himself to assess the area first, clocking two main options as far as escape routes. One is a window at the end of the hall, but depending on Harry’s condition blowing a hole in the wall might not be the best option. Also, not exactly stealthy.

Route two is a staircase that might be useful. “Merlin, do you have schematics for this building?” he murmurs quietly, back to staring at the door. Harry’s through there. Why isn’t he inside already, hugging him, kissing him maybe? Eggsy doesn’t know, his feet seem frozen.

A handful of seconds of silence pass before Merlin answers. “I do now. It leads to the roof and also down to the main floor just near the entrance desk. I don’t know how helpful that’ll be, Eggsy.”

Shit. Fucking fuck shit. “Give me a minute...private?”

“Of course.” Rox, this time, and Eggsy’s lips twitch when Merlin’s confused protest is cut off by radio silence. She understands, because if she were in his shoes and it was Merlin through that door - she’d not want anyone listening in, either.

Eggsy’s not sure what to expect, his heart racing as he pushes the door open fully and steps inside. He goes still, flashing back to the first time he saw Harry lying in a hospital bed. He hadn’t realized he was in love with Harry then, had actually been a little confused about why it affected him so much that this man he barely knew was hurt and looked so vulnerable, so helpless.

This is like that times a hundred. Because he’d been sure he’d never see Harry again and now here he lies, ugly thick restraints binding his feet and wrists to the bed, bandages wrapping his head, looking very much like he might never wake up at all.

His throat tightens as Eggsy inches closer, breathing shakily. “Harry?” Merlin said he was stable and conscious, but the records he’d accessed said Harry had thus far refused to speak to anyone. They weren’t even sure if he was able to speak yet, the doctor commenting in his notes that it might be related to his head injury, some form of traumatic shock. “Harry, wake up, bruv. It’s me.”

Eggsy’s never been so relieved as when Harry _does_ open his eyes, familiar brown eyes meeting his. The feeling’s like a punch in the gut - and he’s had a fair few of those in his life. He takes a step forward, smile forming. “Fucking hell, ‘Arry...thought we lost you for good.” His hands are on the restraints in a heartbeat, suddenly frantic to free him, needing to touch him, be held by him just for a minute, maybe, then for a lot longer later on. “You okay to walk? I’ll help…”

It isn’t until he got Harry’s feet free and is working on his right wrist that Eggsy realizes Harry’s just staring at him, looking confused and wary. His stomach drops and he hesitates, fingers stilling.

“Harry? Merlin, somethin’s wrong!”

There’s a crackle in his ear. “What? What do you mean, what’s happening, Eggsy?” There’s a cool, smooth tone in Merlin’s voice that Eggsy’s become used to, that ‘You got this’ demeanor in the middle of a moment when Eggsy might otherwise panic.

“What’s a Merlin? I thought you just called me Harry.” Harry is giving him that judgy side-eye he’s so good at, and Eggsy has never been so grateful to be on the receiving end of that familiar look. Until he realizes what Harry just said.

Eggsy’s knees weaken and he sucks in a shocked breath. Aw shit. “Well...he can speak. Harry, do you remember the church? Before the church?”

A shadow falls across Harry’s face at the mention of the church and he shakes his head. “They said I hurt people. That’s why I’m here.” He glances down at his half-undone restraints, eyes widening. “I don’t think you should take those off...I’m dangerous.”

Eggsy’s head spins, heart thudding hard in his chest. “Fuuuuck. This is _not_ happening. It’s not...Harry, jesus, ain’t ya know nothin’?”

“Eggsy? Are you suggesting that he...he doesn’t remember who he is?” Merlin’s ‘I am in control’ tone suddenly sounds very very ruffled.

Eggsy takes a step away from the bed, turning away briefly and voice dropping. “Merlin, I don’t think he remembers more’n that...leastways not everything. Shit. Shit. Um...well sod it, it’ll have to get sorted once we’re out of here.” He glances over his shoulder at Harry, who is industriously attempting to refasten the wrist restraint Eggsy got half-undone. For some reason, the sight breaks his heart. “What do I do, Merlin?”

There’s another brief moment of silence and then Merlin is back. “Alright, I wanted to avoid this because it leaves tracks behind, but this is...an unexpected circumstance. I’m breaking into the local FBI office system in Frankfort and sending an email to the hospital staff director that you are authorized to remove the patient from this facility and relocate him to Arlington, Virginia. Get him out of there, Eggsy, take your rental and get out of Kentucky. Head for...Cincinnati, it’s north, just on the other side of the Kentucky/Ohio border. Head there and I’ll have a plane waiting to pick you up. Got it?”

Things make much more sense when he’s got orders to follow, and Eggsy is calmer now knowing there’s a plan. He can follow a plan. Everything will be okay. He nods.

“Got it.” He turns back to Harry, reaching out to cover his fumbling hand and shakes his head. “It’s alright, Harry. Listen to me, I need your help. We’re getting you out of here and I need you to trust me, you’re not dangerous - well, not the way you think. It’s complicated…” Okay, this isn’t going well. He tries again. “There’s been a misunderstanding. A lot of very bad things happened recently and you managed to survive. Since you can’t remember, they put you here until they figured things out. But I know you, Harry, and I was...I was with you the day things went bad. You didn’t murder anyone. I promise you. You have to trust me.”

“Who are you?” Harry asks quietly, brows knit. “Why should I trust you and not the doctors?”

Eggsy is at a loss for a moment. He didn’t expect this and he’s not sure how to answer. Finally he just sighs, looks at Harry, and tells him the truth. “I’m Eggsy. We’re...we’re very close friends. And you should trust me because...because I love you, Harry Hart.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Eggsy pulls the motel room door silently most of the way shut, stepping out onto the sidewalk just along in front of the row of cheap rooms. “He’s resting. He seems...very confused, disoriented. Worried about himself, he thinks he’s a danger, I guess. Fuck, Rox…”

“I know, I know. Where are you now? Safe?”

Eggsy nods. “Yeah. I took us half an hour south and an hour or so east, just in case anybody’s following, though I doubt it. They barely even glanced at the authorization you two faxed them - I think they were glad to have one less worry on their plates. Either way, we’ll stay here tonight and make our way back ‘round and up into Ohio tomorrow, probably.”

She’s quiet on the phone for a minute, then sighs. “He’s alive, Eggsy. Alive and well, if not completely whole right now. Whatever happens, whatever he’s forgotten...he hasn’t forgotten you, I’m sure of it.”

Eggsy slides down the wall to sit on the ground, so exhausted he can’t hold himself up anymore. “I don’t know about that...you didn’t see his face when I...when I told him I loved him. He just...he just stared at me, Rox. Didn’t react ‘tall. Not exactly how I figured it'd be the first time I said it, you get me?”

“Oh, babe, but he believed you, right? I mean, he came with you, so some part of him knew you were telling him the truth, I think. He’s there, with you, and alive. Stop sulking, alright?”

Eggsy smiles. “You sound like Merlin. Stop hanging ‘round him, he’s a bad influence. You used to coddle me more.”

“Did not,” she teases back. “Come on. Merlin’s rounding up the best doctors as we speak, when you get home Harry is going to have the best care, he’ll be around familiar things, familiar faces - you’ll see. He’ll be back to himself in no time.”

Eggsy wants very much to believe that. But she’s at least partially right. He’s got Harry back, in whatever semi-broken form. Harry’s alive, and two days ago he’d have literally killed to make that happen. So he tries to be optimistic. Miracles have already happened, what’s one more?

“I don’t want to leave him alone for too long, Rox. I’ll call you in the morning before we leave with the route we’ll be taking, just in case. Keep tabs on us real close, yeah?”

“Absolutely. We aren’t going to lose either of you, now. Get some rest. We’ll get this sorted.”

She sounds so sure of it that Eggsy can’t help but feel hopeful. “Right. Night, Rox. Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.” He swipes the call to an end and leans his head back against the brick for a minute. It’s still oppressively hot and the lure of the air-conditioned room is great, but he’s hesitant to go back in just yet. He isn’t entirely sure what to even say to Harry, if he’s awake, and even more, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to just sit and watch him sleep if he’s not awake, and frankly that’s just bound to creep the poor man out.

So he sits for a minute, listening to the insects sound loudly in the late evening air. It’s his first trip to America, and frankly it’s not leaving a fine impression, he has to say. What with the whole locking up his boyfriend and nearly melting Eggsy alive and now with the shrieking insects making a ruckus in the trees. Next time, he’s definitely going to New York or LA instead. mental note to demand a trip with Harry once he’s better.

With a sigh, he shoves himself to his feet, turning to slip back into the room with the hope of not disturbing Harry. As it turns out, that’s not going to be a problem, as Harry is wide awake. And out of bed. And pointing a Kingsman issue pistol - nicked from Eggsy’s bag, no doubt - right at him.

“Alright, then. Just who the bloody hell are you and, more importantly, who the bloody hell _am I_?”

Fuuuuuuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com :) Feel free to drop into my ask any time, with prompts or headcanons or whatever you want! Thanks so much for reading and supporting my humble, smol efforts to do right by these wonderful boys.


	3. Chapter 3

His finger twitches on the trigger and it makes Harry nervous, so he removes it, stretched out along the barrel instead. Somehow that feels right and he wonders why he knows it. The young man - Eggsy, what kind of a name is that? - has both hands raised in a placating gesture, unusual green eyes wide and brows lifted in a sort of ‘whoa, hey, easy’ expression. He looks so young and quite innocent - and yet, he clearly isn’t because he’s got another gun and a handful of odd gadgets in his bag that are very much _not_ innocent at all.

“‘Arry, hold up, bruv…”

His eyes narrow on the boy. “Is that really my name?” It feels right, the same way holding the gun does, but that doesn’t mean it is. He has no way of knowing if anything is what it seems and his stomach knots tightly, his head aching. “Harry Hart?”

Eggsy nods, not moving. “Yeah. Some people also call you Galahad, it’s kind of...a nickname. But yer Harry to me. Always have been.”

Galahad. He rolls the word around his mind for a bit, hoping it might click into place, maybe unlock something there. It doesn’t, but like the name Harry, it feels like it fits him. “Why do you have this gun? And…” He reaches out and grabs what looks like a lighter, flipping the cap up, resulting in a flashing red light. “What’s this?”

Eggsy’s eyes fly wider, taking a step forward. “Jesus, Harry, gimme that!”

In a flash, almost before he can even have the thought, he’s got the gun cocked and finger back on the trigger, and Eggsy freezes. “Whoever shot me appears to have had terrible aim. Something tells me mine is better.” He flips the ‘lighter’ closed and Eggsy’s relieved reaction leads him to conclude it’s something dangerous. “An explosive?”

Eggsy nods, panting a little. “Grenade. Look, I can explain, but not like this. I ain’t gonna hurt you, Harry. Not ever. I came to bring you home.” His voice is quiet, earnest, and his expression is the same. Harry isn’t sure of many things these days, but he’s already concluded that he’s pretty good at getting a read on people...and Eggsy rings true.

So he slowly slides the safety into place and lowers the gun, though he doesn’t put it down and Eggsy doesn’t try to take it. “So explain to me why I should trust a stranger who comes and all but breaks me out of a psychiatric hospital armed with guns and grenades and god knows what else? Because I don’t think I believe that you are with the FBI, Eggsy. So I’ll ask you again, who are you and who am I?”

Eggsy hesitates, then sighs and gestures to the bed. Harry nods and the young man moves over to sit, slumping slightly. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders and some part of Harry deep inside stirs - as if aching to take that weight from him. Make him smile. What a strange urge.

Eggsy looks up at him, then. “You’re Harry Hart. I’m Eggsy - Gary Unwin. We met about 6 months ago when you recruited me for the organization you work for. You were...my mentor. You trained me, taught me, like...I dunno, a teacher I guess, but we was more than that.”

Harry’s brows lift. “More?” The boy’s words in the hospital ring through his mind. _“I love you, Harry Hart.”_

Eggsy nods, then sighs, looking uncomfortable. “Shit, ‘Arry, I dunno how to explain it, sounds a bit sordid, I guess. We was friends, best friends, an’...more’n that, though, too.”

“Lovers?” Harry finds that hard to believe. He’s gotten a few looks at himself in the mirror and he’s old enough to be Eggsy’s father. Still in fine, respectable shape, of course, but Eggsy can’t be more than 24, perhaps younger. What would he see in a man Harry’s age?

But, as suspected, Eggsy nods. “Yeah. That part’s new, you know, just before you came over here and...well, and got hurt. Died, we thought you had, it was the worst, Harry.”

There’s a world of pain in his voice and that part of Harry inside is shouting at him, now, to make the pain stop, to make it better. Whatever they might have been before, it is clear to Harry that the boy is important to him. Harry sits, reaching up to touch his bandaged temple where the gash from the bullet burns.

Eggsy is beside his chair in an instant, kneeling on the floor, gentle, warm hands on his face. “Does it hurt? Merlin gave me painkillers, said you’d need em.”

“Whoever or whatever Merlin is, they are correct. May I?”

Eggsy nods and rushes to dig through the bag, producing a bottle from a zippered compartment. Harry hesitates, then holds out the gun, grip first. Eggsy takes it with a small smile and hands him the bottle in exchange. A moment later, he’s back beside the chair with a cup of water from the bathroom and watches intently as Harry takes two of the pills and finishes off the water.

“You okay?”

He nods. “Fine. It’s not as bad as when I first woke up. I could only stay awake for short stretches at first, the pain meds were so strong.”

Eggsy’s face twists, sorrow in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Harry. Shoulda been here, shoulda known you wasn’t dead.”

“You said you were with me that day...how could you not have known? Did you...leave me behind when I got injured?” That doesn’t ring true, honestly. The boy hardly seems the cowardly type to tuck tail and run. But how else could he have not known Harry was still alive?

“No!” It explodes from Eggsy, violent almost, like his whole body rejects the idea. “I’da never left you, swear.” He takes the thick framed glasses off his face and hands them to Harry. “Put ‘em on.”

He frowns in confusion, but it seems harmless so he slips the glasses on. They don’t appear to be prescription, because everything is still clear. “What am I supposed to see?”

Eggsy holds up one finger. “Hang on, I’ll show you.” Back to the bag, this time pulling out a laptop, and a minute later he’s turning it on the small table to face Harry. And there, on the screen, is a view of the table and the laptop, but...he shifts his gaze a bit, to the right in Eggsy’s direction and the view on the laptop shifts with him.

Harry takes the glasses off, looks at them, then at Eggsy. “They show what the wearer sees. I was wearing these that day and...you were watching?” Oddly, it doesn’t feel intrusive. He thinks it should, but somehow he doesn’t mind the idea of this young man being inside his head, so to speak.

“Yeah. I saw everything that happened. The whole world went to shit thanks to Richmond Valentine’s damn signal, Harry. You were there when he did his test run and weren’t your fault, the people that died. No more than it was anybody else in the world’s fault when they turned on each other. Valentine killed ‘em, not you.”

It’s a lot to take in and he lets out a shaky breath, handing the glasses back. “Well. So you are with the FBI after all?” Who else would have technology like that? A thought occurs to him suddenly and his eyes widen. “Wait a minute...you said I recruited you. Are...are you suggesting _I_ work for the FBI??”

Eggsy grins - and why does that make his heart lurch heavily? “Nah, you’re too fond of breakin’ the rules to ever last.” His smile fades, replaced with a thoughtful, unsure look. “Dunno really how to explain Kingsman to ya, though. Don’t have the elevator and HQ as proof like you did.”

Harry’s not sure what an elevator has to do with anything. “Kingsman?”

“Yeah. We’re...well, we’re spies, ‘Arry. You was here trying to figure out what Valentine was up to an’ got caught in his test. A day later he unleashed it on the whole flippin’ world, didn’t he? We stopped him, mind, me an’ Roxy and Merlin did, never knowing you was here, locked up safe and tight, thank god. Shit, if I hadn’t gone all bulldog on the idea of comin’ to get yer body, fuck…” He looks sick. “We mighta never known.”

Harry’s inner something is shouting at him again to soothe that pained, slightly nauseous expression from Eggsy’s face, but Harry’s a bit busy trying to process the absolute load of nonsense Eggsy just unloaded on him. A spy? Saving the world? As if he’s supposed to believe he’s some kind of real life James Bond and Eggsy is...is what? His Bond Girl?

_He’s certainly beautiful enough_ , his inner voice whispers.

Harry ignores that voice completely. “That is absurd. Are you certain _you_ don’t belong back in that hospital, young man?”

~ ~ ~ ~

Eggsy can’t blame him for doubting. It’s a hell of a thing to wrap your head around. He remembers how surreal it was the night he discovered just what Harry Hart did for a living, that night at Kingsman Tailors. It hurts to have Harry doubt him, though. He’s never done before, always trusting that Eggsy was telling him the truth. Harry’s the first person to ever trust him like that and it’s more than a little crushing to realize he doesn’t anymore.

“I know how it sounds, believe me. I felt the same way when you told me. Course, you were able to show me things to prove it, but all that’s back in England, innit? All I’ve got is some trick glasses, a few gadgets and my word.” Roxy’d said Harry still remembered him, on some level, but Eggsy knows now that ain’t true. Harry don’t know him from Adam. “I’m sorry, Harry. Jus’ keep lettin’ you down, seems like.”

Silence falls in the room and it’s not the comfortable, easy silence they used to share. Eggsy can’t help but remember the night before it all went tits up. Layin’ in Harry’s bed, listening to him breathe...he’s pretty sure Harry was awake doin’ the same thing, but neither of them had felt like they had to talk or fill the silence. Just holding onto each other and eventually falling asleep just like that.

This silence is oppressive and hurts.

“Do you have the footage?” Harry’s voice is quiet, strained.

Eggsy’s first reaction is pure rejection of the suggestion. He knows damn well what footage Harry means. “No. You don’t want to see it, Harry. Please trust me on this, okay?”

Harry’s eyes are sad, a little afraid - a combination of emotions he has never before seen in those eyes and it’s shocking. What else does Harry hide behind his carefully constructed ‘Perfect Gentleman’ walls?

“I think I need to see it, Eggsy. Show me the footage, the proof that I am this deadly trained secret spy, that you were watching that day, that I didn’t really slaughter that church full of people of my own volition. Show me, everything you’re saying is my life...show me.”

God. He’s right. It’ll prove everything, and yet Eggsy would rather cut off his own arm than make this vulnerable version of his Harry watch the carnage of that video - culminating in his own murder. “Harry, please…”

But one thing that doesn’t seem to have changed at all is Harry’s stubbornness. Eggsy can see it rising up, the ‘I’m right and this is how things will be, now stop arguing with me’ look. Once upon a time, Eggsy had found Harry’s single-mindedness when he wanted something sexy - after all, it’d ended up with them tangled together in that giant bed of his on one quite memorable occasion.

But now...it feels like a curse.

“Show me the footage, Eggsy. Or take me back to that bloody hospital because you’ll have to drag me every step of the way back to England without it.”

Eggsy scrubs a hand over his face, so exhausted suddenly that he can hardly draw a breath. What he wouldn’t give for things to go back just 9 days...9 days ago when he’d known without a doubt that he and Harry were going somewhere great together. They were going to be super spy boyfriends and fuck their way across the world while saving it every few weeks at the same time. It was going to be fucking glorious.

He sighs and nods. “Fine, Harry. You win.” But really, no one is going to win and he knows it. He grabs the laptop again, logging remotely onto Harry’s home system through an encrypted satellite signal, then drags a second chair over beside Harry and sits. He might disagree with this, but damned if he’s gonna let Harry watch it alone. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he mutters and hits play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading (and sorry this chapter took a little bit). Next chapter coming much sooner, promise! As always you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com where my ask is always open for prompts, headcanons or just plain chitchat. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The echo of the gunshot seems to hover in the air as the video on screen goes black a few seconds later. Otherwise, the entire room is silent. Eggsy reaches out to shut the laptop, fingers trembling. No matter how many times he sees the footage, it shakes him to his core. He can only imagine what Harry’s feeling.

“Harry?” He lays a hand on the other man’s arm, the muscles tense. “Hey, c’mon, bruv. It’s alright.”

Harry’s gaze flicks to Eggsy’s face, then away just as quickly. Not before Eggsy gets a glimpse of the shock and shame in his dark eyes. Fuck.

“Hey, no, now listen...none of that was you, okay? ‘Arry, my mum hacked her way with a cleaver through a bathroom door and nearly killed my baby sister - that weren’t her fault no more’n this was yours, okay?” He yanks open the laptop again and quickly brings up some youtube videos of the chaos on V-Day. “Look. Harry, look! It weren’t you, everybody did shit like that, anybody within range of that fuckin’ signal.”

It doesn’t seem to make Harry feel any better, though he nods silently and turns away from the screen. Eggsy sighs and shuts the computer once more. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Fuck, it’s times like these he wishes he was Harry. Harry would know the right words. Harry would be able to explain it right.

“Please don’t do this, Harry. You helped us stop him, you know? Without this footage, we wouldn’t have known what was coming and couldn’t have stopped it in time. A hundred very shitty people died in a church who would have died whether you’d been there or not...but fucking billions were saved because you got us the information we needed. Which has more weight, huh?”

Harry rises, moving across the motel room, still silent. Eggsy doesn’t know what else to say, so he says nothing, deflating. He feels like a failure, again. _Always letting Harry down, Eggsy. Always._ He rubs a hand over his face.

“I don’t feel like a spy.”

Eggsy’s head lifts, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, well, me neither, most of the time. But we are. The whole world went to shit, Harry, but some miracle kept you alive and...fuck, I just wanna take you home.”

Harry turns away from the window and meets his eyes. “You said you loved me.”

Aw, shit. But he doesn’t deny it, nodding. “Yeah. I do.”

“Do I love you?”

Eggsy sifts a hand through his hair, frowning. “I dunno, Harry. You never said so. But then...neither did I until today, so maybe...I think you could have. Maybe would have. Maybe did already, I dunno.” It’s all such a tangle, it’d be so much easier if they’d had anything established before it all went tits up. But no, this had to happen just as they were beginning to even really explore the possibility of being...more.

Harry’s lips quirk. “Well, that’s a definitive answer if ever I heard one.” He glances at the beds - two of ‘em - then back to Eggsy. “How long had we dated?”

Eggsy snorts, shaking his head. “Dated? I wouldn’t exactly call it dating.”

“I never took you to dinner? A play? Anything?”

Eggsy grins. “Well, you did cook me dinner once, but only so you could teach me how to eat like a proper gentleman and not like a chav down the pub. And you fixed me breakfast, ah...the morning after.”

“The morning….ah. Oh, I see.” The slight stammer in his words is cute and Eggsy’s heart squeezes tightly. Fuck, he misses his Harry. He’s in there, somewhere, and Eggsy fucking misses him. Harry with all the answers, Harry who knows what to do next in any situation. Harry who...who maybe loved him back.

Eggsy clears his throat. “Ah, well yeah. Anyhow. So...you believe me now? ‘Bout the spy thing anyway?”

Harry nods. “Yes.”

“Good. Then let me check your bandages and then we need to get some sleep. Gotta hit the road real early. Merlin’s got a plane waitin’ for us in Ohio.” It’s like he can’t really focus on anything else right now. Just one thing matters - get Harry home. It’s become pretty clear that Eggsy isn’t going to be able to fix him, but maybe Merlin knows a way. Some gadget in dressing room 3 that might help. Something. Anything.

Harry comes back over to the small table to sit and watches as Eggsy digs out the first aid kit from his bag. “Merlin is another spy?”

Eggsy nods, laying out the supplies he needs. “Of a sort, yeah. He’s rarely in the field. Merlin is more...a handler. Behind the scenes, in our ears, guiding and controlling situations so we can do our job better.”

“And Roxy? You were speaking to her on the phone earlier? I heard you...you told her you loved her.”

Eggsy smiles, sitting down and then reaching to begin to unwrap the bandage around Harry’s head. “I do. Not like...well, not like you. She’s my best friend, we were recruits together. She helped me find you.” It warms his heart that maybe Harry is a little jealous? More likely he’s just confused, but some part of him hopes that maybe there is a little bit of that Harry Hart possessiveness coming through.

_“You’re mine now,” Harry growls, hands pinning Eggsy’s to the bed, settled between his thighs as though they were made to cradle him -and only him - close._

_“Fuck yes, Harry...all yours.”_

He shakes off the memories, focusing on the task at hand. The gash along Harry’s temple is deep, but the stitches are neat and small and it’s healing fast. He manages a smile. “Gonna have a dashing scar here, old man.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Harry asks.

“That you’ll have a scar?”

“No, that I’m old.” Harry flinches a bit as Eggsy cleans the wound. “You’re very young and I’m...very much not.”

He rolls his eyes and begins to wrap a fresh bandage. “I ain’t so young. 23 next month, matter of fact. And you ain’t that old. 53 according to your file.”

Harry lifts his brows. “That’s 30 years difference, Eggsy.”

“So?” He secures the bandage neatly and sits back, tilting his head at Harry. “You breakin’ up with me, bruv?” It comes out teasing, but inside...it’s pretty much Eggsy’s worst fear. Hell, it seemed like a miracle to have Harry Hart want him at all. For that to happen even once was unlikely, what kind of act of God will it take to somehow make him fall for Eggsy a second time?

What’s that old saying? Lightning never strikes twice? It makes his insides ache to think that maybe he got his one-time-only bolt of lightning and now that Harry’s come back...he isn’t gonna get another miracle.

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry would have to be blind, not just forgetful, to miss the pain in Eggsy’s eyes. And whatever he does or does not remember, he knows that Eggsy hurting is unacceptable. Knows it deep down in his core. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Eggsy shoves to his feet, shrugging. “What’s to understand? Love is just...love. Don’t care if it’s logical or safe or even the best choice, it just kinda happens. Gotta say, Harry, this ain’t how I imagined tellin’ you.”

His heart lurches. “You...hadn’t told me? Before?” Eggsy shakes his head and guilt swamps in to overtake the confusion. “Shit.”

Oddly, that makes Eggsy smile, a muffled, wet sort of laugh choking in his throat. “It always surprises me when you cuss.” Shadowed green eyes flick toward him briefly. “Not exactly proper, is it?”

Harry smiles, too. “No, I suppose not. Am I always proper?”

The shift in topic seems to ease Eggsy’s distress and he sinks down on the edge of the bed. “God, no. I mean, somehow even when you’re _not_ bein’ proper, it still seems like you are. I guess it’s just how you are, ingrained or summat. It ain’t the same when I do it, you get me?”

“Indeed. Forgive me for sounding like a snob, but...you don’t strike me as the usual recruit into a spy organization filled with so-called proper gentlemen. How did I choose you?” Harry imagines that Eggsy must have been a controversial choice. He rather likes the idea that he was the type to buck the system, actually.

“You knew me dad. Recruited him once, as a matter of fact. He...he died, though, and I think you felt awfully guilty about it, bein’ as you was his mentor and all. So when I got into a bit of a mess last year, coulda gotten locked up, you came in, pulled some strings and told me I could do better.”

Harry smiles, tilting his head. “And you did, from the looks of it?”

Eggsy shrugs again. “Sorta. I failed the final test, actually, an’ boy you was so mad at me, ‘Arry. Said you’d sort it all out when you got back, but…” Eggsy swallows hard and looks down.

Realization sparks and Harry’s breath catches. “But I didn’t come back. Oh. Oh, Eggsy.” So they’d parted on bad terms and never had a chance to reconcile. He wondered if that accounted for Eggsy’s single-minded determination to find him and bring him home. Did he hope things would end up sorted, after all? “I’m sure I wasn’t angry anymore. We say things in the heat of the moment…”

Eggsy gives him a half-smile and there’s something about his eyes, somehow sad and hopeful at the same time. Like the boy wants to believe the best but doesn’t quite.

“Would you mind if...what was it that you failed at? You seem incredibly capable, Eggsy, I’m sure I knew you tried your best at whatever it was.”

This time Eggsy’s laugh is a little fuller, more real. “Well...not really. In fact, I didn’t try at all. I refused to do it.”

Harry blinks, startled. What on earth would make him give up at the very last? “Why?”

“You were mad cause I refused to shoot my dog.”

His mouth drops open in shock. “I _what?_ ” What kind of a man was he that he’d be angry the boy refused to shoot a dog?

Eggsy grins and shakes his head. “It was a test. It wasn’t a real bullet, JB - my dog - woulda been fine but I didn’t figure out that it wasn’t real. I think I was supposed to, or at least supposed to trust Kingsman enough to follow an order that seemed ridiculous on the surface - trust that my handler wouldn’t give me a bad order. And I didn’t, so...I failed.”

On some level that makes sense - he doesn’t suppose much would get done if agents went around questioning ever order they were given in the middle of a chaotic situation. But still. “Well, I don’t know what kind of man I was before, but I assure you I would not be angry with you now.”

He wonders if he’d been more upset that Eggsy failing would then mean he’d lose him. After all, what kind of a relationship could a spy have with an average person? Not much, probably. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more sure he is. If he’d loved this boy - and he certainly seems quite easy to love - Harry can imagine he’d be very upset at the thought of losing him.

“I was probably afraid, you know.”

It’s Eggsy’s turn to look confused, perfectly arched brows shooting upwards. “Are you mental?”

“Maybe.” Harry smiles. “You _did_ just break me out of a psychiatric hospital.”

“Ha ha,” Eggsy deadpans. “Whaddya mean, you was afraid? I ain’t never seen you afraid of nothin’. Not even when Valentine had that gun 6 inches from your head, nowhere to run. You weren’t scared then.”

Harry lifts one shoulder. “Well, a bullet is nothing compared to losing the person one loves. You know that quite well, don’t you? Do you suppose I was any less afraid of losing you? If I felt how you felt, I mean? After all...if you didn’t graduate to be a spy as well, then it’d make maintaining a relationship of any kind rather difficult. Maybe...maybe I wasn’t mad so much as afraid.”

Eggsy blinks at him thoughtfully, seeming to turn the possibility over in his head. “Huh. I never thought of that. I mean...I guess I never thought you’d care so much as all that.”

Harry shifts uncomfortably, unsure whether he should have said anything. After all, he has no idea if that’s why he was upset. He doesn’t know this other Harry at all. “I mean, from what you said I don’t seem to be the kind of person who’d be legitimately mad that you didn’t want to shoot your dog. Am I?”

Eggsy hesitates, then shakes his head with a small smile. “No, you’re not.”

And from the look in the boy’s eyes, he’s now accepted Harry’s thought as fact - when it might not be at all. He’s going to feel very guilty if and when he remembers and it turns out he possibly is just a big wanker who was angry his recruit failed.

Luckily, Eggsy doesn’t push the subject, just gives him a sad, small smile and nods. “Right. Should get some sleep, then, shouldn’t we? Get you home tomorrow.”

Harry wonders if this nebulous idea of ‘home’ Eggsy has will truly be the miracle the boy seems to be hoping for. For whatever reason, letting Eggsy down feels like the absolute worst thing in the world, which - considering the week he’s had - is saying something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, everybody! I promise the slow burn is about to start catching fire :) As always you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com where my ask is always open for whatever you want to drop into it - headcanons, flailing, just saying hi, prompts, whatevs! See you in a couple days!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic now has a playlist! Listen to all the songs that inspired this fic here: [You're The Gravity on 8Tracks](https://8tracks.com/faesutherland/you-re-the-gravity) Enjoy!

“Tell me about how we met.”

They’ve been driving for a couple hours now, through what appears to be the back-end of nowhere, and Harry’s been silent for most of it. So when he speaks up, Eggsy jolts a bit.

He glances over at his passenger. “How we met? Told ya, you recruited me for Kingsman.”

Harry lifts his brows. “Surely there was more to it than that. If I’m to remember, then it can only help to know as much as possible about my life...before. You said that your father died and that was why I chose you?”

Eggsy sighs. He doesn’t like talking about his dad, but he also doesn’t like having to tell Harry about their life...it hurts, that things Eggsy cherishes, memories of times they’d had, are only stories to Harry. To Harry they aren’t real and for Eggsy they’re too real. It makes his insides twist to think that he might be the only one to ever remember those things - what if Harry never remembers that brawl at The Black Prince, or all the conversations they’d shared when Harry had been laid up after Professor Arnold, or...the night before he’d left for Kentucky?

But Harry wants to know, so Eggsy will tell him. Even if it hurts.

“That’s what you said, yeah. That you were trying to make up for what happened to him. Like...you owed him because he saved your life when he died so...I dunno if that was all true, though.”

Harry’s brows furrow. “You think I wasn’t being honest?”

Eggsy shakes his head. “Oh no, not like that. You ain’t the lyin’ type, Harry, not ‘less it is to protect intel or something. No, I just...I think maybe my dad wasn’t the only reason. I figure if I hadn’t been right for Kingsman, you never would have shown and offered me the chance at a spot. I think you’d have found some other way to repay my dad if it wasn’t Kingsman.”

Harry nodded, glancing out the window at the trees and rolling hills flying by. “Mmm, that does make sense. So I thought you had what it took, then.”

Eggsy can’t help but preen a little, because he’s still proud of that. Harry believed in him, at least for a little while, and it’d felt so good. No one had ever believed in him that way before. _Then you let him down, didn’t you?_ Eggsy shoves away the painful little voice. He likes Harry’s explanation better - that he hadn’t really been upset, just worried.

“Yeah, you did. Course, you wasn’t sure at first, bugged me that first day so you could listen and make sure I didn’t blab to anybody about you or Kingsman. But then...yeah, you trusted me. You said...said I had potential.”

Harry smiles, still looking out the window. “Well, then I clearly wasn’t a fool. Even now I can see you’re a very loyal young man.”

Eggsy’s heart clenches, flashing back to Fitting Room One that first night. He thinks he would have agreed to just about anything that night, when Harry looked at him so gently and filled his head with so much _honest_ praise. That's the best thing about earning praise from harry - you know it's real. Harry doesn’t sugarcoat fucking anything, certainly not just to make somebody feel better. He tells the truth, even when it hurts, so when he’d praise Eggsy...fucking hell, it was like a drug. better, even.

“Anyway, my dad died saving you and you came to our house. I don’t remember very well, I was only 5, but you gave me this medal and said if I ever needed help, to call the number on the back and you’d come.” He holds up his necklace briefly for Harry to see. “I never took it off. Thought about using it a few times, specially when I’d get in trouble, but always got out on my own. Then I got busted for jacking a car off one of the guys who worked for my stepdad - ugly, mean drunk - and cause I wouldn’t throw my friends under the bus I was looking at maybe 18 months in jail.”

He’d never faced actual time before. The last time he’d been caught by the cops he was still a minor, but now...now it wasn’t just a youth detention, it’d have been real jail. For a long time. “I couldn’t leave mum and Daisy - my little sister - alone for that long. Not with Dean steady gettin’ meaner and meaner. So I called the number you gave me and next thing I know, I’m sprung and you’re there, waitin’ for me.”

Harry smiles, turning in his seat a bit to give Eggsy his full attention. “So one of the perks of being a super spy is the ability to subvert the judicial system.”

Eggsy laughs. “Guess so. Man...I remember seeing you. Just standing there, outside the station, in the fanciest suit, shades, looking like...well, let’s just say I’da let you give me more’n just a ride home, bruv.”

Harry looks surprised, curious but surprised. Like he doesn’t understand why Eggsy would want that.

“You don’t get it, do you? That’s why you mentioned us being so far apart age-wise, huh? Think I’m bonkers for wanting you?” Eggsy wishes he would have just climbed into bed with Harry the night before and shown him exactly how much he wants him.

Harry looks uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, the tips of his ears going ruddy. “Well, I hardly think anyone could blame me…”

How he manages to be so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time is anyone’s guess. Eggsy sighs with a smile. “Unless you want me to pull over right now and _show_ you how much I want you, I suggest we change the subject.” He’s tempted to, god knows he is, but it was a scary thing, making the first move that night with Harry. He isn’t sure he has the courage yet to brave another attempt, this one so much less likely to go over well considering _this_ Harry doesn’t know him or like him at all.

So he shakes his head and focuses back on the road. “Anyway, like I said, you bugged me to make sure I wouldn’t blab, because you’d pulled out some spy tricks and gadgets during a pub brawl with my step-dad’s dogs - guess you listened in and when you realized I wasn’t gonna grass you up, you let me in on what was going on.” Eggsy smiles, remembering. “Man, bruv, I thought you was mental. Going on about World War 1 money and code names and then there was body bags and tricks to test loyalties and what-all. Crazy 6 months, absolutely crazy.”

“But worth it in the end, I see?”

Eggsy nods. “Yeah. I mean, at first it was ‘cause I really didn’t have any other options, nothin’ to lose, you know? And then a lot of it was wanting to make you proud, prove you hadn’t picked wrong. And then...and then it was wantin’ to be with you. Didn’t know if you swung my way ‘tall, didn’t care.” He shrugs. “I’da spent the next 20 years fighting by your side if that’s all I could have, ‘Arry. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Harry’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “And then you did.”

Eggsy swallows hard, chest tight and painful, nodding sharply. “Yeah. Watched it happen an’ all. Swear I wanted to curl up in a ball and die with ya, I did. But then I found out what Valentine had planned and who was in on it and...I knew you wouldn’t have stopped. No matter what, you’d have kept going and saved people.” He shrugs one shoulder, clearing his throat past the lump. “Hadta make ya proud. Do the right thing. Just like you’da wanted.”

It’d been the only thing getting him through. That it was what Harry would have wanted, what Harry himself would have done were he there. Later, after, he’d broken down rather spectacularly, of course, but in the middle of the V-Day nightmare, he’d been focused, steady - resolved. All the things Harry and Kingsman had taught him to be. Just holding it together as best he could, for Harry.

And he is still doing just that, though it gets harder and harder every day.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Get some rest, Harry. We’ll be home before you know it.” Eggsy smiles, though it seems strained. Harry has a feeling the boy is on the very razor’s edge of what remains of his control. While he himself feels very much like an observer in this whole vignette, Eggsy on the other hand is living every second. Feeling all the things Harry cannot. It must be awful and Harry wishes he could do something about it.

Eggsy dips through the door to the cockpit of the small plane, and Harry sighs, taking a moment to look around. Well, Kingsman certainly spares no expense. The private jet is plush and expensively appointed, with comfortable couches and chairs, a bar and entertainment center. There’s a small hall leading to the back of the plane and he assumes the lavatory is back there along with perhaps a small galley.

When Eggsy comes back and sits on the couch across from him, Harry smiles, gesturing around them. “Do all ‘fallen heroes’ of Kingsman get such luxurious trips home?”

Immediately he knows it was the wrong thing to say, because Eggsy’s face tightens and there’s a shocking amount of pain in his eyes. The boy draws a deep breath and gives him a shaky smile. “No, they don’t. Just you, Harry.”

He frowns, moving over to sit beside Eggsy, drawn to him in a way he can’t explain, especially now when he looks so desperately like he _needs_ someone. “I’m sorry, I said something wrong, didn’t I? What?”

Eggsy shrugs one shoulder, eyes bright with unshed tears. “No, it’s not your fault, just...most Kingsmen don’t come home at all. I didn’t know that before, but you did apparently. Turns out, Kingsman doesn’t claim the bodies...too many ties back to the organization, they said. And often too dangerous to send another man in and end up losing two instead of just one.”

Harry’s heart sinks. Eggsy had mentioned before being stubborn about coming to get Harry’s body, but he’d assumed he meant he’d fought to come _personally_ , not that he’d fought to come retrieve him at all. It also means that Eggsy’s father never came home, no closure of a funeral. “So if you hadn’t come...what you said before, you wouldn’t have known I was alive.” He tilts his head. “But you had support coming to get me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, once everybody knew you was alive. Which they only found out cause I was gonna come and get you no matter what they said. So it was either help me or maybe another international incident - and then it turns out there’s a survivor and that’s you, so...shit, guess I am still bitter at Merlin about that.” Eggsy sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, then glances up as the plane begins to taxi. He gestures to the seats, four large, opulent chairs. “Come on, better buckle up for this. Don’t want you sliding off the couch and hittin’ your head, yeah?”

Harry can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, so he lets him, smiling and nodding. Ten minutes later, the captain announces that they are free to move about, and Eggsy gestures to the couch on his left. “There’s no bed, but the couches are super comfortable and there’s some blankets and travel pillows in the back, I’ll go get you some. You should get some sleep, we’ve been on the move since early.”

When he comes back with one pillow and one blanket, Harry takes them, though he’s not feeling particularly sleepy. He catches Eggsy’s hand before he can walk away. “You should rest, too, Eggsy. You look like you could just fall over.”

Eggsy glances at their hands, then gives him a shaky smile. “Nah, bruv, I’m fine. You’re the one what got shot in the head, yeah?” His accent is much thicker suddenly, and Harry wonders why. Then Eggsy tugs his hand away and he suspects he has his reason.

Eggsy does, however, go to the couch against the opposite side of the small plane and stretches out with his phone. That’s something, at least, perhaps he’ll doze off for a while. Harry sighs and stretches out on his couch, for the moment just watching Eggsy.

He’s a very beautiful young man. He wonders what it was like to kiss him. If they were lovers then they definitely did more than kiss, but for the moment it’s startling enough to imagine just kissing him. Eggsy has a lovely mouth - pink and soft when he wakes up, turning red when he nervously chews at his lower lip. Just now it’s pale and turned down at the corners as he types rather intensely on his phone.

Roxy, perhaps, telling her how Harry still doesn’t remember. How long does a boy his age hang on to a lost cause, Harry wonders. What if he never remembers? Does the him who loved Eggsy still exist? He’s not sure, but he imagines that version of himself locked away somewhere in his mind, banging at the door to get out. Probably furious that Harry is mucking everything up.

“Eggsy?” he murmurs, and the young man glances over, brows lifting.

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss me?”

Green eyes go bright with tears again, this time one or two spilling before Eggsy dashes them away and nods. “Yeah. I do.” He smiles shakily, sighing as he sets aside his phone and turns to face Harry across the width of the plane. Somehow it is cozy. “Mostly I jus’ keep thinkin’ if you was here, I mean if you was _you_ , you’d know what to say. How to fix it. You always seem to know the right thing, Harry.”

“I think you’re doing just fine, Eggsy. I don’t think I’ve said it, but...thank you.”

Eggsy blinks, brows furrowing. “For what?”

“For coming to get me.” He smiles. “I may not remember anything, but I do know that I would not have wanted to spend the rest of my days in Kentucky.”

As he’d hoped, that gets a soft laugh from Eggsy, who then lets out a weary sigh. “You’re welcome. Couldn’t leave ya there.”

Harry nods. “I know. I know.”

Silence drifts over them both, and within minutes, Eggsy’s eyes drift closed and a bit later his hand falls limp as he drops off. Harry doesn’t sleep for quite some time, watching the boy. Wondering what’s going to happen when they reach England.

Will it be the home Eggsy hopes? Or just another blank space?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! new chapter coming soon. As always you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com where my ask is always open for prompts, headcanons or just flailing in general. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Harry isn’t sure what he expected of his home, but the reality is welcoming - this _feels_ like home, feels familiar for the first time since he woke up in that hospital. He glances over at Eggsy, who seems to be holding his breath, and smiles gently. “This feels right.” To which he’s rewarded with a huge grin and Eggsy lets out a sigh of relief as he shuts the door behind them and sets down the bag.

“Yeah, good. Figured all your little collections and bits and bobs would ring a bell or two. Come on and sit, I’ll fix some tea and then after if you want to wander a bit, get the feel of the place? Maybe see if anything comes back?”

Harry nods. “Yes, of course.” He does head into the adjacent sitting room, but doesn’t actually sit. He’s drawn to a bookshelf without any books - instead every shelf is filled to the brim with snowglobes. There must be a hundred of them. He leans in to examine them more closely.

There’s one with the Great Wall of China stretching across the delicately painted landscape with glittering green leaves as the ‘snow’, another featuring the Eiffel Tower with silver glitter, and yet another with lovely little Japanese houses and tiny pink flowers to emulate the snow effect. There are more, each individual and tied to a different location, all beautiful and unique. Perhaps souvenirs he picked up while on missions, he supposed.

There’s the sound of clinking china behind him and he turns to find Eggsy standing there, shaking hands holding two tea cups. Harry’s brows lift and he moves to take the cups before Eggsy drops them.

“Is everything alright?”

Eggsy exhales, rubbing his hands on his jeans, nodding toward the shelf. “You showed me that shelf the first time I came over.”

Harry’s brows furrow, sitting down on the couch. “I assumed they were souvenirs from my missions around the world?”

Eggsy nods, looking away from the shelf and sitting across from him. “Yeah, they were. ‘Cept...you got them for me.”

Harry blinks, glancing back to the shelf, then to Eggsy. “I don’t understand...then why are they here and not at your home?”

Eggsy smiles, reaching for the tea. “Cause you never gave them to me. It’s...it’s kind of a long story. I used to love snowglobes when I was a kid, my dad would bring me one anytime he went away on a trip, before he tried out for Kingsman. Only got to give me a couple before he died, but...I think he must have told you about it, when he was in training, and you told me that after he died, every time you went someplace you’d try and find a snowglobe from there and bring it home. Kept ‘em all there on the shelf as a kind of reminder, you said. That you owed me dad a debt, you said, and it became sort of a thing with you, buying a globe for me for all the times he couldn’t.”

Harry’s throat tightened and he looked down into his cup, sighing. “You must have resented me...for your father’s death?”

“No, never!” Eggsy’s voice is stark with hurt, and Harry looks up. “Please don’t think that, ‘Arry. I...the day you left for Kentucky, after I failed the last test, I said a terrible, mean thing that I didn’t mean, about my dad and like I blamed you an’...I could see you were so hurt, I’m sorry. I don’t blame you, never did. I was just stupid and lashin’ out, scared cause you were mad at me for the first time and that hurt and I didn’t want you to see it.”

Harry smiles and shakes his head. “Eggsy, I’m sure I knew that. People say things they don’t mean…”

Eggsy sets down the cup with a clatter. “You keep saying that, that you’re sure you knew stuff - like that I didn’t mean that I blamed you, or that you’re sure you knew how I felt or you’re sure you weren’t really mad, just worried...but you don’t know none of that for sure at all, Harry. Not at all. Maybe you were gonna come home from Kentucky, tell me we was done and I weren’t a Kingsman so see ya later, Eggsy, back to the gutter for you.” Eggsy’s voice catches on a choked back sob and he shoves to his feet. “You don’t know none of it for sure, and all I can think about is what if you did intend to just cut me out of your life now that I was out of the program? And when you remember…”

Harry isn’t sure how to comfort him, because the boy is right. Perhaps he did intend to end their relationship, perhaps he was a jerk whose affection for Eggsy was conditional on him passing the training to become an agent, too. Then Harry glances over at the shelf of globes and shakes his head.

“I don’t believe that, Eggsy. By all accounts, I’ve spent the last 17 years obsessing over you. First as the symbol of what I cost the world when your father died saving me, and then as the person I was afraid I’d lose...I don’t think I would have chosen to sever ties with you after so many years spent thinking of you and obviously caring about you. Do you?”

Eggsy scrubs a hand over his exhausted face, eyes shadowed and haunted. “I dunno. Nobody ever wanted to keep me around before...dunno why you’d be different.”

Harry can’t assure him without having his memories, but he rises to his feet and crosses to take Eggsy’s hands. The sadness and worry in the boy’s green eyes is heartbreaking. He doesn’t need to remember to know that he would never have wanted to be parted from this young man. “Perhaps I can’t tell you what I was thinking that day or any other day, really. But I _can_ tell you that I want you here now. I need you here. I don’t want you to go, Eggsy, and I certainly have no intention of asking you to do so.”

Eggsy’s chin trembles and his eyes well, though he valiantly manages to not let the tears fall. “Yeah? Really?” he asks, all little boy uncertainty and hope.

Harry’s heart clenches with affection and he can just imagine how easy it would be to fall in love with him. If his past self spent months on end in Eggsy’s company...Harry is suddenly very sure he must have loved him very much, whether he’d ever said so or not.

“Yes, Eggsy. Really.” One hand comes up to rest against his cheek, and the mood shifts imperceptibly, from comfort to...something more.

Eggsy feels it, too, because his eyes drop to Harry’s mouth, then back to his eyes, then back to his mouth again, undisguised longing in his expression. Harry doesn’t think about whether it’s a good idea or not, the pull between them at this moment is too powerful as he slips one hand around to spread on Eggsy’s back as his head dips and their lips touch.

He needn’t have worried whether Eggsy wants to be kissed or not, because after a split second of stillness, the young man comes to life in his arms. Strong, soft hands come up to cup his face, fingers seeming to map it out, as if afraid he’ll forget what Harry looks like - or maybe remembering through touch after too long without. Eggsy’s lips part without urging and Harry shudders in response as he sinks his tongue into the warm, candy sweetness of Eggsy’s mouth. He doesn’t remember what other kisses taste like and he’s almost glad for it, because this...this is what a kiss should always taste like. Heat and sweet and need and just an edge of frantic hovering behind their dancing tongues and gently scraping teeth.

Eggsy consumes him and Harry welcomes it. He doesn’t even realize they’re moving until he finds them suddenly entangled on the couch, hands in each other’s hair. It’s the hardest thing he can remember doing as Harry makes himself ease out of the kiss, breaking it slowly, gently, so Eggsy doesn’t feel rejected.

“Eggsy...wait. Wait.”

The boy’s panting, wide eyes dilated as he blinks heavily as if stunned and somewhat adrift without Harry’s lips to anchor him. It’s a beautifully endearing look and Harry allows himself another soft, sipping kiss before he pulls back again. His fingers gently trace to perfect arch of Eggsy’s brow, smiling down at him.

“I think I must have loved you very much, my dear boy. Unless I was previously a complete and utter fool.”

Eggsy’s lips curve a bit and he reaches up to brush his fingertips from brow to chin, lingering on Harry’s lips. “You weren’t no fool, Harry Hart. Not ever.”

Harry smiles and kisses his fingertips where they hover over his mouth. “Well then, it’s settled.”

Eggsy smiles, too, but Harry can see the shadow in his eyes, still. He won’t believe until Harry has his memories back. Harry presses his forehead to Eggsy’s and sighs, wishing very hard for something - anything - to come back to him, to give them both some hope. But it’s like slamming into a steel wall over and over - pointless and painful.

His head is throbbing when he pulls back and Eggsy must see the pain in the lines of his face because the next thing Harry knows, Eggsy is gone from his arms and returns a moment later with the bottle of painkillers, pressing one and his tea into Harry’s hands.

It’s quiet, too quiet, and Harry looks up at Eggsy, standing over him, worry on his face. “Will you stay, Eggsy? Here?”

There isn’t a moment of hesitation as Eggsy nods. “Course. Anything you want, ‘Arry, you know that.” He stills abruptly and Harry knows he’s thinking that no, Harry doesn’t know that. Doesn’t know anything anymore. It hurts, even though it’s true.

He reaches for Eggsy’s hand, squeezing. “I do know that, Eggsy. I do.”

He might have lost everything, but he hasn’t lost that. Not completely. He’s of the mind that it’s ‘Before Harry’ in his mind, guiding him. Insisting that Eggsy is home, Eggsy is safety, cling to Eggsy and don’t let go.

For now...that’s his only plan.

~ ~ ~ ~

_“...judgin’ people like me from yer ivory tower…”_

_“Been wantin’ this for months, Harry...don’t stop...”_

_“Galahad, on your left...get the hell out of there!”_

Harry comes awake with a choking gasp, as if he’s been underwater for an hour, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath. His head is throbbing again, but it’s the least of his concerns at the moment.

His mind is full of snatches and snippets of memories. Nothing that feels solid, nothing whole, but they’re there nonetheless. Laughing green eyes full of mischief and affection. The whisper of a ghost touch, fingers drifting down his spine and soft lips against his neck. An unknown man’s voice, heavy with a Scottish brogue, barking commands into his ear. It’s nothing concrete, but his heart races with a sense of victory - it’s all in there, he knows now. It’s going to come back.

Part of him wants to spring from the bed and go wake Eggsy in the guest room, maybe climb into that bed with him and kiss him awake to tell him he remembers _something_.

But he doesn’t. Not yet. Eggsy doesn’t deserve half-measures. He doesn’t deserve faint clips and soundbites of their relationship, of Harry’s feelings for him. No, Eggsy deserves it all. He’s hurting too much to toy with him by offering half-remembered nothings as a token of hope.

Harry, however, is invigorated by the revelations, as small as they are. And as he turns in the bed to stare at the wall, willing his mind to give him more, he swears he can feel Eggsy’s Harry inside him smiling, biding his time. For the first time since the ‘accident’, there is a real light at the end of the tunnel.

It looks a lot like Eggsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com where my ask is always open for prompts, headcanons, flailing of any kind. Got a hurricane heading our way this weekend, so I don't anticipate a new chapter being up until later next week. Thanks for your patience! :)


	7. Chapter 7

“Well, it looks like you’re doing fine, all things considered.” Dr. Langston scribbled on the chart in his hand for a moment, then looked back up at Harry, smiling. “You’re a very lucky man, as usual, Galahad. The bullet merely grazed from your temple back a few inches. You’ll have a dashing scar and a slight groove in your skull, but otherwise everything looks normal.”

Eggsy’s eyes narrow. “Normal? He doesn’t remember anything!”

Langston nods, smile fading a bit. “I realize that’s very troubling to you and Galahad, Eggsy, but it’s not unexpected. The bullet might have only grazed, but that jarring combined with the psychological trauma of Valentine’s wave and the subsequent violence inside the church - I’d frankly be very concerned if there _weren’t_ lingering aftereffects.”

“Will I remember?” Harry asks, and Eggsy wants the answer to that question, too. More than almost anything.

But Langston seems confident when he nods. “I believe you will, yes. Memory loss can be a protective mechanism as much as anything, and in this case I believe that’s the main cause. What happened in the church was, in my professional opinion, far beyond anything you’d experienced in your years as a Kingsman.”

Eggsy frowns. “But he’s killed before…” Then breaks off and puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He knows that part of his past bothers Harry.

“Yes, of course. But under very different circumstances, Eggsy.” He gestures to Harry. “A specific target for a specific reason is a different thing than having someone else claim control of your mind and force you to kill a hundred civilians who, while downright hateful, were still just ordinary people. Add to that the sense of being out of control, a puppet, to put it more specifically - Harry, I have examined your scans and tests and the physical trauma is far outweighed by the mental.”

“So you think I’m blocking things on purpose?”

“Not on purpose, no, that indicates some level of control over it. Your mind is protecting you.”

Eggsy lets out a breath. On the one hand, he’s grateful Harry doesn’t have some terrible brain injury causing this. On the other, he’s not at all happy with the idea that Valentine managed to break the mind of the strongest man Eggsy has ever met. That his Harry is so riddled with guilt and pain that he’s just blanked it all out, erased it because it hurts too much.

“Why’s he blocked out so much more, though? It’s not just the church he doesn’t remember…”

Langston’s lips twitch. “Well, that’s where it gets tricky. The brain doesn’t work like a well oiled machine at the best of times, quite honestly. Switching off just one section isn’t as easy as it sounds, so in the heat of the moment, when under great stress and trauma, it’s more like a transponder blowing than it is like flipping a light switch.”

Harry glances over at Eggsy, then reaches out to squeeze his hand. “I will remember, though?” he asks the doctor.

“I’m confident you will, yes.”

“When my brain stops trying to protect me?”

Langston hums in agreement as he scribbles on the chart. “Yes, most likely. Of course, there’s no guarantee of what might trigger a full recollection, my guess is it will come in drips and drabs as you heal, as time passes. We’ll keep an eye on you medically and I want you to immediately make an appointment to see the psychiatric department. Therapy will help.”

Harry lifts a brow. “How will talking about something I don’t even remember help?”

Langston flips his chart folder closed and smiles at them both. “The same way it helps to talk to someone when you’re trying to solve a problem - sometimes the answer is already there, it just has to be given a voice.”

Eggsy wonders if Dr. Langston doubles as The Riddler at night, sighing as the man leaves them alone in the exam room. “Well, that was interesting.” Harry’s still holding his hand, though, and Eggsy doesn’t want to let go just yet. So he sits beside him on the exam table, their legs touching. “You okay?”

Harry nods, eyes thoughtful. “Eggsy...I wasn’t going to say anything, but Dr. Langston makes me think I might be mistaken in holding off.”

Oh fuck. This is it. Harry’s going to tell him to leave. He needs to be with his close friends, his family maybe, people he’s known his whole life, not the 23 year old chav boy he only knew for 6 months before he ‘died’ - half of those months spent either in different countries courtesy of Harry’s mission or with Harry in yet another coma. What did Eggsy have to offer that might help? In all honesty they’d barely known each other. Except his heart rejects that - they’d _known_ each other, in ways that had nothing to do with how much time they spent together.

“I think I remembered a few things last night.” Is what Harry says instead and Eggsy doesn’t know how to react for a second. Finally he shakes off his stunned reaction and a frisson of excitement ripples down his back.

“You….you _what_?” He sits up straight, turning slightly to face him. “When? What did you remember?”

“It wasn’t much, please don’t get your hopes up...I woke up from a dream - a nightmare, really - and I recalled...I think it must have been you, talking about ivory towers? Being judged?”

Eggsy laughs, one hand covering his mouth. He feels giddy. “Oh my god...of all the things. When we first met, you seemed a bit of a tosser at first and I snapped at you and yeah, said something like ‘snobs like you judging people like me’, yeah.”

Harry chuckles a bit. “Well, I imagine I can be a bit of a snob at times...and then I remember a voice, that’s all, not a face to go with it. A man, older sounding, with a heavy Scottish accent. He was shouting in my ear, and called me Galahad?”

Eggsy nods, lips quirking. “Merlin. We’re going to go see him once we’re done here. Which...I guess we are done. Roxy, my best friend, you remember, and he are dating. She says he’s been burying himself in work because he’s afraid to see you, though he won’t admit it.”

“Afraid of me?”

Eggsy shrugs one shoulder. “He blames himself for you being left there in Kentucky. It’s not really his fault, even I know that, mostly, but...you two have been friends since you were recruits together like 30 years ago or something.”

Harry nods. “That explains why I remembered him. We were very close, then.”

“Yeah.” Eggsy hesitates. “Is that all you remembered?” What if he remembered their fight? What if he remembers now that he was going to wash his hands of Eggsy after his epic fuck up with the dog test and the hurtful things he’d said during their fight? His chest hurts, and he barely stops himself from clutching it like an old man having a heart attack.

If what Harry wants is him to go...Eggsy will go. Even if it will kill him in a way he hadn’t thought was possible after the pain of Harry’s death.

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I remembered something else.”

Eggsy swallows hard, unable to meet Harry’s eyes. He’s sure it’s all over now. “Yeah?”

And then Harry’s hands are on him, reaching out to pull him closer on the edge of the exam table, one hand tipping up his face. the other sliding down to close on his hip. It’s a firm, possessive touch and it sends shivers racing through Eggsy.

“I remember you saying you’d waited for months,” Harry whispers. eyes dropping to Eggsy’s mouth. Eggsy’s forgotten how to breathe. “To not stop...touching you, I think. Or more?”

Eggsy’s breath hitches and he sways a bit closer, their lips practically touching now. “Probably...probably more.”

Harry’s lips lift at the corner, that barely there smile that just tugs hard deep in Eggsy’s belly. “Care to fill in the details for me?”

Oh, Eggsy wants to say yes. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead to Harry’s. “It was the night before you left for Kentucky,” he sighs. “The next day would be the final test for me, the dog test - and we had 24 hours to spend together. We...spent most of it in bed, Harry.”

Harry’s lips brush his jaw and Eggsy can feel the smile on them. “Oh good, you were right that I wasn’t a complete fool, then.”

Eggsy can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up, eyes opening and meeting Harry’s. “You’re not taking this seriously at all. You just want another kiss.”

Harry’s eyes are warm, his hand coming up to cup Eggsy’s cheek. “On the contrary, my dear boy. I take this very seriously.” And then his smile grows. “And yes, I very much want another kiss.”

Eggsy could never resist him. Harry wants something and it’s something Eggsy can give...what does protecting his heart matter anymore? The man he loves is back from the dead and two out of his three first memories are of Eggsy. That means something, it has to.

_Does it mean he won’t want you to go away when he remembers everything?_ that sneaky little voice asks in the back of his mind.

Eggsy doesn’t know. But he’d sooner die of a broken heart one more time than give up the chance to kiss this man for as long as he’s allowed. So he smiles and leans in and lets Harry have his lips.

And oh, Harry knows what to do with them, that’s not changed.

The kiss the night before had been sweet and steamy, but this...this one goes right past that and hits on ‘hot and bothered’ in no time flat. Eggsy wonders if the vague remembering of their first time is the cause. He hopes so, likes the idea that even a faint glimpse of what they shared can raise a frenzy in Harry.

Whatever the cause, Harry’s hungry for him, tongue feeding off Eggsy’s mouth, hands greedy on his thigh and back, hauling him closer, leaning him back until Eggsy has to hold himself with one hand on the exam table, the other buried in Harry’s hair as they kiss.

It’s so familiar and so breathtaking, Eggsy clings to him, one leg hooking around his hip and tugging Harry forward even more until he’s half over Eggsy, Eggsy’s thigh wedged between Harry’s own and vice versa, and they’re both rocking their hips, grinding hard cocks through clothes on each other.

Eggsy groans and his head falls back, breaking the kiss as a wave of pleasure hits him, hips jutting up. Harry wastes no time, mouth dropping to Eggsy’s throat and sucking, licking, devouring him. Eggsy can come just like this, he knows he can, and is of the mind that that sounds like a glorious idea, until abruptly there’s a knock on the door and a polite clearing of a throat outside in the hall.

“Ah...there are just a few forms to sign, Mr. Hart?” A nurse, from the sounds of it, and Eggsy’s eyes widen, a laugh bubbling in his throat that he clamps down on.

Harry coughs to hide a snort of his own. “Yes, very good. We’ll be right out, thank you.” As footsteps fade away down the hall, their eyes meet and Harry’s are so beautifully bright and full of laughter. It’s been so long since Eggsy saw that and it hits him hard. “Oops,” he deadpans.

Eggsy does laugh then, giving him a light shove. “Get off, old man, the party’s over.” He glances at Harry through his lashes, though. “For now.” Letting the question mark on the end trail off.

“Definitely for now,” Harry replies, dropping one last kiss on Eggsy’s lips before they detangle themselves, straightening clothes and gazes catching on each other every so often like teenagers caught necking in the basement or something.

Eggsy likes it. It feels...light and uncomplicated. A welcome feeling.

“Now what?’ harry asks.

Eggsy takes a deep breath. So much for uncomplicated. “Now Merlin. His office is upstairs.”

This is going to be just barrels of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always you can find me on Tumblr at faedreamer.tumblr.com where my ask is always open for prompts, headcanons, flailing in general...you name it! Next chapter coming soon!


End file.
